


Holy Mission

by JustAFrenchGirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 1 scene of torture, BMoL Big Bang 2017, Gen, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-21 00:44:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13729530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAFrenchGirl/pseuds/JustAFrenchGirl
Summary: My mission is to eliminate monsters from this world, to help it get rid of what is frightening the children at night. I, Arthur Ketch, as a hunter commanded by the most British Men of Letters will accomplish this mission no matter of what the cost is; those creatures do not deserve our compassion. Nothing and no one will stand between me and the objects of my mission.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, readers!
> 
> This is my submission for the [BMoL Big Bang 2017](https://bmol-big-bang.tumblr.com) ! A big thank to Mod Lux for hosting this challenge!
> 
> I worked with the incredible artist [Hit_The_Books](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/profile) / [dreamsfromthebunker](https://dreamsfromthebunker.tumblr.com) ! Go check her [Art MasterPost](https://dreamsfromthebunker.tumblr.com/post/171020130245/holy-mission-bmolbb-art).
> 
> Another thank you to both my beta readers:
> 
> Kalaswana Mukherjee / [The_Darkness_Eater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Darkness_Eater/profile)! :D Life has been keeping her busy so some chapters have not been beta'd by her.
> 
> And dun_leer_ee, she also did a truly an amazing job and I'll be forever grateful. She loves to do beta work so if you need help, don't hesitate to contact her at this email: madmaggs21@gmail.com.
> 
>  
> 
> Side Note: As Kalaswana was quite busy in real life, she found herself unable to beta the entirety of my fic in time so please, be kind towards the fact some chapters will be left unbeta'd for a little while (fic will be updated with beta'd chapters). All mistakes are mine (I hope there aren't too many though).  
> Update: A second pair of eyes, dun_leer_ee, is looking at the fic at the moment.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy reading this fic :D
> 
>  

I have a mission, a simple mission. Some might say it is brutal and unnecessary. Brutal, um … yes but things have to be done. Unnecessary? My … Au contraire, mon ami. My mission is of the absolute necessity.

You see, this world is cursed: demons, vampires, witches, werewolves, ghosts and spirits of all kinds, shapeshifters and you name it. Our organisation, the British Men of Letters, has found a remedy and I am an active participant in the administration of it.

My job amongst the British Men of Letters, which is of the utmost importance, is to exterminate all potential threats. What about the creatures who desire to live in peace? Well … It is not my job to ask questions, I am given orders and I execute them; you would not want the population to live with the constant fear that the monsters they tell their children about at night are real!

What about the witnesses? The “kindest” Man of Letters would put them in an Asylum (who would believe them anyway?). It is not my job. Mine is to eliminate.

The job has been done and is still done perfectly in our dear Great Britain. The country has been cured. And if some disease appears … we provide a shot of medicine.

Now, we have to bring our cure abroad: the first stop being the States. The job will certainly be a bit more difficult: The Old Men want to have the American hunters on their sides … that will only be possible if they convince the famous Winchester brothers: we convince them and we will have them all. They all, both Old Men and mere task executors, think it will be easy; Davies in particular is highly optimistic, already preparing a selling speech and all.

Americans Hunters … I met a few already. They do not deserve our kindness. Either they are with us or against us.

I, Arthur Ketch, as a faithful member of the organisation, will accomplish my mission: eliminate all monsters, eliminate all witnesses, and bring more hunters into our ranks no matter how.

The job will be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both comments and kudos are appreciated! :D


	2. A Lack Of Details

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another thank you to both my beta readers: Kalaswana Mukherjee / The_Darkness_Eater and dun_leer_ee.  
> All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Another job’s done!” I slammed my report on Davies’s desk.

“Great.” He quickly looked through the papers before going back to his computer. “Perfect, as always. Any particular issues?”

“None.”

“Good. Good ... Would you like a day’s rest?”

And there is only one reason as to why he would ask that question:

“There’s another mission already? I am not even surprised.”

“Disturbances have been detected somewhere in Muncie, Indiana: a powerful supernatural source is the only thing we are sure about.” He sighed heavily … not a lot of information then.

“Are you sure that’s not that red-haired witch or the demon? Or even the Winchester’s pet? Or Lucifer? Or the spawn of his?” I was quite angry, I like to know what I am up against, what kind of torture to use against these monsters. How can I be at my top game if I know next to nothing?

“I’m sorry, but that’s all I’ve got! Listen, if you want, you can take someone with you ... even if you aren’t a team player.” Was that a reproach, Davies? Why do you ask questions when you know the answers?

“Who? Most of the Men of Letters of this compound stay behind walls. Don’t look at me like that, Mick! You know you’re a shitty hunter, it’s like you’re not even trying.” Whatever Davies was writing, he stopped typing it. He opened his mouth to say something. I cut him off. 

“Alright. Mary Winchester? She is doing the job amazingly.”

“She’s already on a hunt. Why not her sons?”

Did he just mean …

“Christ, Davies! Do want me to bear with their ...  _ mercy  _ towards creatures of all kinds?”

“Well, once they turn their backs, you could al-”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, Mick.”

“Well, if it’s just a haunted house, you could always take care of potential witnesses and let them do the job.”

I sighed.

“Is there something else? You know, something we are sure about?”

“Well, Mary Winchester is already on it so ...”

“Alright. But, as always, the Code will be respected. The job will be done no matter how.” I stared into his eyes to make sure he understood what I was implying.

“Of course,” he said with a short smile. He took the report I brought in earlier, got up to put it in one of the shelves. Something stopped my eyes. I frowned: there was something at the base of his neck! When he got back in his chair and bent a little to retrieve several papers from the bottom drawer, I pronounced the words I was thinking, aloud:

“Great love bite you have there, Davies.” He straightened himself and looked up at me. He had worries in his eyes. He gulped. I smirked.

“Don’t you have a job to do, Mr. Ketch?”

There was silence for a few seconds. Finally, I decided to say:

“As long as it isn’t some kind of monster or something monster-friendly, you don’t have to be worried.” I was still smirking.

He took his phone and sent a message.

“You should go. The Winchesters will be waiting for you.”

“And you’re coming with us.”

I left the room before he could even say anything, and went back to my room to take my bag. There was a reason I “invited” Mick to come. I knew he went on some hunts with the brothers. Since then, I noticed he was doing his job differently, questioning it. Not that he was asking questions aloud, but I could see it, I could feel it: he was more hesitant. Even the Old Men were feeling he was changing (and they did not even face Mick), that he was on the verge of breaking the Code. I was not: A hunter at the service of the British Men of Letters, I took a vow, I have the cross on my hand to constantly remind me of that. He should remember whom he serves.

So, I decided that he may as well come: I would not teach him mercy towards those creatures, not like the Winchesters were likely doing to him. A creature is nothing else but what they are: I would show him myself that their roles in the world should not be questioned. They should be eliminated.

I found him back at the car, a little too enthusiastic for my taste. I briefly noticed not even his coat was hiding the bite. Davies was so obvious. No wonder he was assigned to a desk job; he had no talent to be a hunter. He was not born for the task. Even though whoever he was seeing took care of marking him as taken.

He was typing away on his phone, surely to convince the Winchesters to go on a hunt with both of us. At least, the unwillingness to work together was mutual.

When we arrived, the Winchesters were waiting for us. Sam only smiled at Mick who smiled back. Dean, however, was angry and was not hiding it. Of course … he only followed his brother … shame, he was good.

“We go with Baby. And I’ll drive,” was all he said. If he thought I would mind being at the back of his car, trying to ruffle me, he was mistaken. The vehicle did not matter at all.

In the end, all that mattered was that the job had to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both comments and kudos are appreciated! :D


	3. On The Road To... Casa Erotica?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another thank you to my beta reader: Kalaswana Mukherjee / The_Darkness_Eater and dun_leer_ee.  
> All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Enjoy!

Dean kept sending me dark glares whenever he looked the rearview mirror. He then gave a look at Mick:

“Did he really have to come with us?”

“ … I thought the ... collaboration could only be ... beneficial to both sides.” Are you watching your words, Davies? You were not so hesitant before, you knew what you had to say.

Dean pursed his lips. “Yeah … beneficial for you. Or because us agreeing to your cause is not working as planned?” he paused for a few seconds. “You’re damn lucky that we haven’t had a hunt in two weeks, that’s all.”

“Well, in the end, we might share a few common points, Mr. Winchester. You don’t like being inactive, you actually like going after them, you like killing. Tell me, do you torture them a little?” I goaded. 

Mick’s eyes were just looking back and forth between Dean and I. What did he expect?

Dean did not intend to stay quiet, I could see it. I knew that look: he was a man who wanted a fight. Good. He opened his mouth to say something … but was cut off by his little brother:

“So, Mick,  uh, what’s waitin’ for us … in Indiana?” And here, I was starting to have my fun in this.

Mick was hesitating between talking and staying quiet, half expecting a fight in the car.

“Well, Davies?” He might as well talk since he was the one to have this brilliant idea.

He glanced at me before answering:

“Some sort of supernatural power. Thing is, we only know it is powerful. But we have troubles determining what it is exactly.”

“It could be anything, Mick. A powerful witch, a spirit, a ghost … something that can leave some kind magical footprints and still remain unidentified.”

“I know, Sam. The only thing that we know for sure in this case is that the source of the power has been detected near ruins in Muncie.”

“Muncie, you say? I feel like I know the name.”

“Already been there for a hunt, Mr. Winchester?” I asked.

“Mayb-”

“Sammy! Casa Erotica happened there, remember?”

For god’s sake, tell me that is a code name for one of their hunts!

“What happened there?” 

“If you really want to know, Ketch-”

“Dean, stop.” Sam turned his head. “There was a meeting there, in a hotel. Of gods from all kinds of beliefs. Human guests were served as dinner. In the end, they - the gods - ended up killed.”

“My! For once, Winchesters have done their job right!”

That one earned a glare from Dean. “Don’t get too excited there Kujo. We didn’t kill them, Lucifer did. And that Indian goddess was saved.” Obviously, it was too good to be true.

“And how did you get out of that situation?”

“Someone gave Dean a DVD before saving us from Lucifer.”

“At least, that someone has done their job right … do the job or die trying.”

I heard Mick slamming his hands on his thighs. He seemed to disagree, a true Man of Letter would not. I only saw him do that in my peripheral sight. The Winchesters were hiding something from me: I could see Sam looking at his older brother with worry. On the other hand, Dean was smirking.

“I think we should arrive soon, won’t we?” Enquired Mick, eager to change the subject.

“Yeah, 40 more miles and we’re done,” Dean answered.

Well, well, the mission may be funnier to accomplish than I had first thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both comments and kudos are appreciated! :D


	4. Bet Winning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another thank you to my beta reader: Kalaswana Mukherjee / The_Darkness_Eater and dun_leer_ee.  
> All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Enjoy!

"So, you said one of the gods was saved. And we’re going near that exact same place from where she escaped. Also, the exact place where all the other gods died … Did you even think that it was possible she came back there to do some sort of ritual to, I don’t know, revive the dead?” I said, voicing my thoughts out loud. An unknown powerful energy was detected near that place,  _ and _ a goddess on the run? And we are going near that place … Did Mick tell the name of the place we were going to?

“$10 we’re going back to this place.” I said. If we were going there, this would be one hell of a hunt.

“Is it really the moment to place a bet on a hunt?” Ah, now Davies was concerned.

“Davies, let him. I bet the contrary: we are going near but not at that hotel. Sammy?” Dean said.

Sam rolled his eyes but still answered:

“ … Sorry, Dean but … I have a feeling about this hunt … I’m going to agree with Ketch. Maybe we’re going back there.”

“Really, Sam?” Dean paused. “Davies? Where do I have to go next?”

“Turn left,” he said, looking at the screen of his mobile, then the road before giving his instructions.

“Dean, we’re going ...”

“Shut up, Sam! We’re just passing by ...”

“Um … turn left again, and stop.”

The car stopped in the parking lot of what seemed to be a long abandoned place. The building was surrounded by trees: I noticed a wood behind it. The sign was off but it was not night time yet. I could read “Elysian Hotel”. I leaned back in the seat. Dean seemed uncomfortable.

“Am I winning the bet, Mr. Winchester?”

“Yeah, yeah.” I was feeling pure satisfaction on my part.

We got out of the car. Both brothers watched the building pensively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both comments and kudos are appreciated! :D


	5. Haunted?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another thank you to my beta reader: Kalaswana Mukherjee / The_Darkness_Eater and dun_leer_ee.  
> All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Enjoy!

So, the “little” meeting had taken place here? Shame I was not invited to the party, I would have loved to take a chance at eliminating the last one. Maybe I would have taken a chance with Lucifer along with some good men … I know the guy cannot be killed on one’s own.

As soon as we were inside the ruins, the doors closed by themselves behind us. As we spared a look at the door, another one opened with a creaking noise. Going right to the source then.

We all tiptoed slowly with a weapon in front of us. I began hearing a faint noise. As I was getting closer and closer, it sounded like people were talking loudly and joyfully as if they were celebrating something. As I was the closest to this door, I put myself behind it, made a sign to the boys and burst into the room.

Nothing! Nothing but … burnt feathers all over the floor. Mick, however, was staring at something in the middle of the room.

“Does a malfunctioning TV even mean anything?”

“A TV? Where?”

“Ketch, you even have a couch next to you!”

“Davies, what are you talking about?”

“Guys, stop … The room is probably empty.” I didn’t even have the time to ask Sam what he meant that a laugh was heard. It was one of those laughs that came with madness.

We looked around. Suddenly, the door closed by itself with a loud  _ bang! _ The laugh was heard again but sounded closer to us.

I looked around the room. It seemed that we were now seeing the same thing: just a dark empty room with nothing but dust on the floor.

In the corner of my eye, I could see Dean was walking towards the door. He had barely touched the knob that the door flew open right to his face.

“Son of a bitch! Is this funny to you?”

This time, the laugh sounded insane.

“Apparently, it is.”

“Really, Sam!?”

“Are you expecting something else coming from him?”

Again, I didn’t have the time to ask what was it about ... I heard a growling. The others must have heard it too because they followed me into the corridor.

In the middle of it was some kind of enormous, monstrous wolf-like creature with blood on its teeth, a body under one of its paws.

I saw Mick shooting at the wolf, but the bullets did nothing! The creature began walking towards us and I saw, as it was coming closer, that its sides and head nearly touched the walls and ceiling. No way of getting around it then. And behind us was a … wall … of course.

I reach for the angel blade that I’ve brought with me just in case. I threw it at the wolf but it stuck in the wall? Behind the creature? But it was right in front of us! And again, that laugh!

“Can you at least look like you’re trying to do something?” I said bluntly to the Winchesters.

Sam briefly looked at me before looking in front of him … Was he looking at the wolf?

“You have a crappy taste in horror movies.”

“That’s actually hurt, Sammoose.” The corpse had been replaced by a man, standing and very much alive I might add. Was the corpse even there at all? “Come on, smile! That was fun!”

“Not for my nose” Dean grumbled. “And, really? How did you even …?”

“You should know how and who … forget what I’ve just said. And that’s for your nose.” He said those words as he touched Dean’s forehead. Healing power? An angel then?

“Who are you? Are you the god that escape from here last time?” Mick asked, hesitant.

“No. My name’s Gabriel and yes, I’m the Archangel … Is this what you were looking for?” he said while looking at me, as he held the blade I threw earlier. “I’m keeping that for a while. Big bro Lucy took mine.”

Sam added Gabriel was also the Trickster, Loki. I could see fascination on Mick’s face already.

“You know Castiel, then?” he asked again, still hesitant.

“Well, little bro and all … speaking of angels, it’s cool you made buddies with one here.”

Since the conversation started, I hadn’t said anything but I was not thinking any less. What was he talking about now? Mick looked impressed … was it because he was talking to an archangel? Come on … it seems that this one was not even trying to kill us.

Confusion was on all our faces.

Mick spoke again.

“We don’t have an angel with us.”

Dean did not give him the time to add something else.

“Your angelic ego couldn’t stay dead?”

The archangel became confused himself. He moved his hands as if he were making a demonstration.

“Ugh, we are so not talking about the same thing, Deanno … I was speaking about him” he said pointing at me. “But that’s a bit weird … I can feel your grace but … it’s there and not there at the same time.”

Suddenly, he disappeared and reappeared next to me. I even forgot about the wolf in front of us, it was apparently real and there was not a single drop of blood on its teeth. A trickster he said? If only I didn’t throw the blade too early.

He took my hand, the one with the tattoo … I didn’t even have the wish to fight him. What was he doing to me?

“Is this a sigil, how did you do it? I was barely hidden among the pagan gods. How can you contain your grace like this? Even dear old dad never tried that on one of us. Bound to explode or something like that.”

“You have something to tell us, Ketch?” Why was Dean even asking? He should know by now that I’m a hunter for the British Men of Letters and nothing else, and I will tell him so, again.

“You should know by now that I’m a hunter working for the most noble British Men of Letters.”

“My … how did they do that … no memory at all?” The archangel, Gabriel, sounded fascinated but also sad?

“My memory is perfectly fine, thank you!” He was still looking at my hand and I still did not want to fight him. He was doing something to me! Why did I throw my blade earlier? And Mick, if he was truly a Man of Letters, he would do something for his colleague … no wonder why most of his crew died during that vampire attack.

“This … personality let’s say ... is very much in contradiction with your grace,” he said, touching the tattoo. I finally managed to get my hand back.

“Is this one of your tricks, Archangel?” my voice, I could hear it, was full of hate.

He looked at me in the eye.

“Say hello to little Cassy for me, boys. And try not to kill Fenrir next time.”

He just went away. Good! I wouldn’t hear about that nonsense anymore! If he truly knew about the organisation, he would know that they would have killed me if I was a supernatural being of any sort.

“What the fuck was that?” I thought aloud.

“Well, that was the Messenger himself … was he … was he like that when you first met him?” Davies looked at Sam, who let an audible sigh out before answering.

“You don’t wanna know.”

“That’s just one more feathery asshole for you, Ketch … but what was that about you being an angel?”

“Really Dean? Haven’t you learnt anything about us? If I were an angel, they would have just used an angel blade, just as I would have done if I hadn’t throw mine too early.”

“Whatever … that was a waste of time.”

I had to agree with him on that one.

Bonus scene:

“You said he is Loki, right?” Mick’s fangirl mode: activated.

“Yep,” was all Sam said.

“Did you ever encounter one of his … ‘children,’ I mean aside from the wolf we have seen?”

“You mean, the eight-legged horse … the giant snake … the half-dead girl?”

“Did you, Sam?” Davies couldn’t even hide his excitement.

Sam chuckled softly. “No, we don’t even know if they truly exist. We have seen the wolf but was he even there at all? Gabriel is the Trickster, maybe Fenrir wasn’t even there. Or maybe they’re just gods too.”

“Do you think that if I ask him …?”

Davies ... the British Men of Letters wouldn’t have thrived if they hadn’t accumulated books on lore so they could accomplish their mission in the best possible way. Maybe I should remind him.

“You could just look at our library if you’re so interested in Norse mythology, Davies.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both comments and kudos are appreciated! :D


	6. An Angel Passing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another thank you to my beta reader: dun_leer_ee.  
> All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Enjoy!

Since that day at the “haunted place”, I have had nightmares. He did something to me. Did he make me have remorse and regrets over what I’m used to doing? Why? So I could feel the pain I inflicted upon my victims? I have no sympathy. I should have none. I simply do what needs to be done. I have a mission and I will do everything in my power to execute the orders I am given.

I had been on few hunts since then. I must admit that I was even more ruthless. But I was doing what needed to be done, right?

And being suspicious about my colleagues when need be is part of the job. Mick was already compromised because of an unusual behaviour, didn’t he want to save his position among the British Men of Letters?

Just the other day, I asked him bluntly for the name of his lover. He looked at me and just gave me a “what are you talking about, Ketch?”… Are you getting better at lying, Davies? Obviously, not much if I sense the lies. I sincerely hope for him that this person is a member of the BMoL. Otherwise… But we had more important things to think about; as soon as the Trickster case was closed, looking for information concerning the status of this person would be the next step.

How long was I thinking about this? I lost track of time. Whatever had been done to me, I needed to go back to myself. Was I being mocked by some sort of spirit? Now that I was thinking about finding a solution, I was hearing people laughing… wait! I was not becoming mad, it was the same kind of laugh I heard at those ruins! And those noises coming straight out a stereotypical horror film! I raised my eyes from another report and guess who was on the other side of the meeting room, with his feet up on the table, and waving his hand at me in some sort of mockery?

“You?”

“Me.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Um … Courtesy call?”

“Really? Shouldn’t you play tricks on me?”

“If I say ‘I’m Gabriel,’ does that help to answer your question?”

I rolled my eyes. He sighed, loudly.

“No. If someone played a trick on you, that wasn’t me … for once.”

“Do you know about the British Men of Letters ...?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Well, then, you should know that they would have killed me if I was a supernatural being of any sort.”

“Not if you are somehow useful to them, which apparently, you are.”

“I work for them, I’m a hunter. I am part of the British Men of Letters.”

“You keep repeating that - yes, I can hear your thoughts, you are not exactly as discreet as you think you are - as if you were trying to convince yourself ...” he raised his finger as he saw I was about to interrupt him. “Or … you just repeat what you have been taught through repetitions, you know? Repeating things again and again and again … to what? To wash away what would be considered as ‘impure thoughts’?” He made the quote marks with his fingers so to emphasize his words. “Were you brainwashed?” He paused. “Why am I even asking that? If you were you wouldn’t know therefore you won’t be able to answer.”

Alright. Should I play his game?

“Why am I here, then?”

“To make you their obedient dog.”

“The other angel would have felt it too, no?”

“Castiel is a Seraph, a powerful angel, but still ... those who are closest to dear old dad - meaning the archangels - can do certain things that he can’t or is unable to yet. Don’t you have visions, or maybe, nightmares sometimes?”

How did he …? Had he “heard” them?

“Well, they’re dreams. Nothing more.”

“Are you sure?” He looked at me in the eyes for a few seconds. “Why didn’t you try to kill me this time?”

“I can arrange that.”

I threw at him an angel blade which I had taken in the armoury this morning.

It settled in the back of the chair he had been sitting in not even a second ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both comments and kudos are appreciated! :D


	7. "Just" Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another thank you to my beta reader: dun_leer_ee.  
> All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Enjoy!

My nights could not be filled with anything else but nightmares. And of course, the angel had to “hear” them. Was he hearing them every time?

If only it was just the nights … I had to have visions during the day as well. Visions of I don’t even know what. Damn it! I missed a target!

I did not lie about it in the report. Dr. Hess just ordered it to not happen again. She also mentioned that if I had not served the organisation so well during those last years, I wouldn’t have had another chance. But she wouldn’t take another mistake.

I also took the opportunity of this conversation to make her aware of Mick Davies’s suspicious behaviour. I mentioned that I overheard a phone call: Mick was trying to be as discreet as possible, a murmured “I love you too… Yes, I’ll be careful, I promise,” was all I could hear.

Dr. Hess gave another order before ending our call: “If this is a danger for the organisation, she has to be eliminated. Don’t disappoint me.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I was in my room when I began hearing some sort of buzzing sound as if someone was looking for a radio station. But when I looked around, there was no radio - I would remember if I had one in my room. The noise was only getting stronger. I put my hands on my ears to try to soften the sound. I … This … This was in my head!

It suddenly stopped. The buzzing appeared again for a few seconds before stopping. Would I get any peace tonight?

“Ouch!”

All of a sudden, my right hand was burning. And the buzzing was slowly morphing into a high pitch noise. As if someone was screaming.

The noise was only getting stronger and stronger … less and less tolerable.

Before I could even think about it, I found myself banging my head against the wall. And the noise and the burn were getting worse. Or was it just me?

“Rest/Stop.” I heard a voice. I didn’t understand what it was saying. I just remembered feeling numb after that, and then, blindness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When I woke up, I heard nothing for a couple of minutes. I tried to get up but was stuck on the ground. I took a deep breath. I tried to get up again, slowly, this time.

I went to the small room where the shower and the sink were. I looked into the mirror and saw blood but … the wounds were getting closed. When I look at my eyes in the reflection, they were blue! I looked closely at my reflection again: it was doing different gestures than me!

I opened the tap and spread water over my face. All was normal now.

I swore to myself that the next time I saw the Trickster, I wouldn’t miss. 

“Are you alright? You don’t seem well,” Mick said as soon as he saw me in the meeting room.

“Have you see that damn Trickster recently?”

“No, why?”

“Because I think - no I’m  _ sure _ \- that he considers me as his new toy!” I only knew I was screaming when I saw fear making an appearance on his face.

“Do you want to call the Winchesters? They seem to know him, maybe-”

“Trouble in the neighbourhood, who you gonna call? That damn Winchesters? NO! They should call us. They should be the ones asking for our help!”

Davies seemed rather worried at this.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

At some point, after a hunt, I just “prayed” to him. To my surprise, he came not even one minute after. And I did what should have been done the other times: I stabbed him with an angel blade.

I only heard giggles.

“That tickles.”

Of course, the one I stabbed was only a fake. The real target was behind me. Or was he a double too?

“Stop your playing your tricks on me!”

“I’m not doing any. I’m just helping you. Or at, least, I’m trying.”

“The noise I heard the other night, it was real?” He nodded. “It was you?”

“It was my voice. The angel radio, you know? It’s really hard to get your station by the way,” he said, making a face. “I only got it after you stop banging your head against the wall.”

“I’m not a damn angel, I’m a HUNTER.”

He seemed angry now.

“Cassie is an angel and a hunter … pretty sure he became one because he is in a relationship with the one and only Deanno – don’t make that disgusted face – baby bro and squirrel are cute together! … What’s that face about? Is it because Cas is wearing a male vessel? Now, you should know that celestial beings are gendered neutral.”

“It’s not about that … a hunter, a human hunter, and a supernatural being?”

“Should I feel insulted? You should feel insulted.”

“For God’s sake … why do you think I’m an angel?” I was actually becoming tired, exasperated by this game or whatever this was.

“Why do you think you’re not?” He smiled.

“I already told you th-”

“Yeah, yeah … But you should be aware that the British Men of Letters make deals with the ‘monsters,’ the ones who either can’t hold their tongues or who are just ready to make deals … I don’t know … What about some high placed demon? Crowley maybe?”

“That should be one of the best-kept secrets... who told you ab-”

“Well, yes, I know about the deals because I made one as Loki to protect one of my kids. Maybe you heard about him, he is playing hide and seek at the Loch Ness, Jörmungandr, you know? Well, most know him as ‘Nessie,’ that nickname makes Fenrir laugh a lot.” He looked sad. “In exchange, I was gone from the entire continent and Jor has to help them in their ‘mission.’  I may not see my son anymore but … well, he scares some creatures away  _ and  _ he is left alone.” He was emotional for a celestial being.

Anyway, one thing was certain: if Mick was here, he would be happy to hear about that.

“Anyway, I would remember if the Men of Letters and I made a deal …”

“Unless you were resisting too much for their taste AND an important-slash-useful-slash-something that could be controlled easily with just the right amount of torture.” He was speaking and moving his hands to emphasize parts of his speech. Emotions and determination could be perceived in his eyes. “Tell me, what’s the tattoo for you?”

“My mission, our mission is a holy one, we’re doing-”

“Don’t you dare finish your sentence!” He sounded angry now. “You should know by now that my Father doesn’t care.”

“We don’t necessarily believe in God, we believe in doing the right thing, we believe in the righteousness of our actions, we believe that what we are doing is right. If we eliminate creatures of all kinds, no monster will threaten human lives anymore. They will be what they should have always been: stories.”

“Humans don’t need monsters to be threatened, they do that well by themselves.” He disappeared only to reappear behind my back. Gabriel took my right hand. I could see some white streams going under my skin, right where the tattoo was. I could feel his Grace, because that what it was - what else? - burning my skin.

“Ouch!” I jerked my hand away violently. “What did you do to me?”

“Just waking something/someone up ... I hope!” He just waved stupidly before disappearing for good.  _ I _ hoped.

I hoped vainly. I kept on hearing his voice, murmuring, just next to my ear: “Wakey, wakey”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both comments and kudos are appreciated! :D


	8. Betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another thank you to my beta reader: dun_leer_ee.  
> All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Enjoy!

Do you remember when I said to Mick that I thought I was becoming - if I wasn’t already - the Trickster’s new toy to play with? Maybe I had, indeed, become one.

I kept on hearing his voice saying those same two words, especially when I was not particularly focused. Or was it that the words were provoking my lack of concentration? I couldn’t even really know for sure those days.

And whatever he did to my hand was still bothering me. One night, just after another one of those damn nightmares, I could swear the tattoo had become almost as red as if it was a piece of steel that had just come out of a fire.

The nightmares … what I was supposed to see in them was still blurred but they had become frequent, very frequent. I actually had them every night now. And what was just “visions” before were just… they had become so real, so vivid that I could literally feel the pain of whomever, whatever I was supposed to see in them.

And I remained in those nightmares until I heard those two words, always those two words, always with his voice. From what we have on him, the Trickster played his tricks on whoever deserved to be “punished”. Loki was also the god of vengeance after all. If this what it was about, fine. He had somehow managed to make me feel some “deserved” pain but it won’t me into executing (given) orders.

This morning, just after I had woken up from a nightmare when I was still catching my breath and sweating heavily, I heard a voice. This voice was asking for help. It sounded distressed, afraid, terrorised even. Was it supposed to be one of the victims pleading for mercy?

“Help us” was what the voice said.

“What did you say?” Mick had been talking to me about something important. We were in the meeting room. I must have had a funny look on my face since he kept going. “The mission… shifters...”

“Yeah, what about it? I did my job, as usual. If something is wrong, you should do your job and tell me right now when it still is possible to rectify things.”

“You know, you can accuse me of being not focused enough but I could say the same about you right now.” Did he just accuse of not being focused enough on our global mission? Obviously, he is not the one being the object of a Norse god’s tricks. Maybe I should remind that I am not the only whose role is in jeopardy. I raised from my chair, put my hands on the table and looked at him in the eyes:

“Tell me Davies, are going to tell me about that lady of yours? Her name? Why are you so secretive? Is she a threat to our mission? I was given an order last week, by Dr Hess in person.” I saw him gulp, it’s true that Dr Hess had this power on Mick. “If she is the cause of your change of behaviour, she will have to be eliminated.” If he was barely frightened before, now he looked distressed.

“I’ll write my part of the report.” he said with a forced smile. “You’re dismissed.”

It was on those words that I went to my room to stock my things until the next mission which, I hope, will be very soon.

Maybe I was too harsh on Mick, maybe that love is what he needs to… I don’t even know. Maybe I was jealous of him, maybe I wanted that too? And that voice who was begging for help...

Why my mind is betraying me? I shouldn’t feel that longing for the kind of thing that could only take my attention elsewhere.

I know what I need: a mission. I will be myself then. And I won’t need Mick this time: I know exactly what my next mission.

My next mission is to kill the Trickster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both comments and kudos are appreciated! :D


	9. Reflection and Loss of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, you will find an artwork by [Hit_The_Books](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/profile) / [dreamsfromthebunker](https://dreamsfromthebunker.tumblr.com) ! Go check her [Art MasterPost](https://dreamsfromthebunker.tumblr.com/post/171020130245/holy-mission-bmolbb-art) ! :D
> 
> Enjoy!

I had to admit, the Trickster was good at hiding. But I’m one the best hunters of the British Men of Letters, that’s why they chose me for the difficult task of hunting the supernatural in the States.

I must find quick though. The intensity of the nightmares had doubled if that was possible. If there weren’t any consequences during the day before, it had now. I was barely resting. I was becoming afraid of being asleep. And I was feeling the great pain I could have had inflicted on my victims. I was feeling pain, night and day. I won’t let the Trickster win. But for that, I had to find him.

I was not the only one being afraid. Every time he was receiving a phone call or a message, Mick behind him to see if nobody was coming. If doubt about his behaviour was possible before, now it was clear that he had something to hide.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Of course, I had to find the Trickster when I least expected it. And during a hunt. Well, two birds, one stone as they say.

I was in a forest, chasing some werewolf when I was tackled to the ground by a giant black wolf. The same one that we have seen in the ruins of the Elysian Hotel. I quickly reached for my gun. I fired.

But what hit the wolf was water.  
“I told you not to try to kill next time you’ll see him.” I was feeling confident in my skills back I those ruins but now, I was frightened. I had to put an end to this. To come back to myself. “Don’t be afraid. He has a reputation, true but he is really sweet… just don’t try to take away his bone, I’ve been trying for weeks to have him have something that looks like dental care.” It was only after that I saw what looks like a big bone in the wolf’s mouth.

The wolf went next to me to play with his bone. I sat up but didn’t do anything to make further movement.

“What did you do to me?”

“I’ve already told you. I’m just doing the alarm clock.”

I took out the angel blade I’ve brought with me. However, it was a slow movement, reflecting the tiredness that had taken my body since all of this began. The wolf stopped chewing on his bone to growl.

“Shh… Fen, that’s alright…” He stopped growling but bore a look of great mistrust.

The voice chose that moment to call out for help. It sounded even more distressed than ever.  
“You heard that?” I still had my blade in my hand. I wasn’t doing anything. I couldn’t move. “That’s your fault, isn’t it?”

“In a sense, yes. It is thanks to me that it is able to speak. Remember when I used my true voice?”

“Your voice nearly made me deaf. I had no control over myself anymore.” I could see it: whatever has been done to me had changed me. The distress I was hearing in that (foreign) voice… I could hear it in mine.

“Well, that night, I was trying to break some kind of solid wall. I had to break it down somehow.” So what was his point?

“You think I care? I just want it to stop.” He had a look of sympathy on his face. I felt something on my cheek… was it a tear?

“I have a feeling it will be over soon.” He held up his finger as if he wanted to impose silence. The voice was still pleading… Always the same thing, always screaming for help.

He had wonder on his face now.  
“Now… I heard this voice a long time ago.”

“I never said yes to an angel.” I should be able to remember that if that had happened.

“Well, if you don’t remember about it. Just say yes again.” Was it a trick so he could find another vessel? “There are still bricks of your wall to break, after all.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The night following this discussion, I had another nightmare. The pain was becoming unbearable. I felt hits. I felt cold. I felt hot. I felt my flesh being burnt. I felt electricity running through my body.

This time, I was woken up by a scream. I couldn’t even say if it was mine or whoever was in this realistic nightmare. I couldn’t move for several minutes. I was just there, in my bed, sweating and looking at the ceiling.

When I was able to move, I went to the bathroom to water my face. It did strictly nothing. I still felt as if my skin was burning up.

When I looked in the small mirror, I saw two copies of my body. One of them was looking as if he has just been tortured.

I closed my eyes. I took a deep breath. I opened them up again. I was alone.

I looked at my reflection in the eye.  
“Yes, of course…” Wait a minute! A smirk began forming on a corner of my mouth. “I know… this is just some trick again… fucking trickster… me, an angel.” I sounded mad but I couldn’t stop myself. “I am Arthur Ketch. Hunter for the most noble British Men of Letters.”

I walked back in the room and sat down on the bed.

My breath was taken away as I felt a sudden pain. I collapsed on the ground, groaning in pain.  
I saw something in the reflection of my trunk. It can’t be…?

I heard a scream. Mine? Was I alone in the compound? I just remember that the few members of this compound left when I came back for another compound to expose new strategies. Was Mick here? He probably left to see his lover.

I wasn’t even in my room anymore. Or was I?

At each hit of pain, I was seeing nothing but blinding light and gloved-hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both comments and kudos are appreciated! :D


	10. Loss of The Self

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, you will find an artwork by [Hit_The_Books](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/profile) / [dreamsfromthebunker](https://dreamsfromthebunker.tumblr.com) ! Go check her [Art MasterPost](https://dreamsfromthebunker.tumblr.com/post/171020130245/holy-mission-bmolbb-art) ! :D
> 
> Enjoy!

When the morning, all the muscles of y body were sore. And at the same time, I was feeling numb.

When I came across Mick, I said nothing. I was standing in the middle of the office, staring in the empty/emptiness.

“Hell of a night?” He was trying to be comforting, I guess… It might have to do with the fact I was walking bare feet and still in my pyjamas. I don’t why I just nod in answer instead of only asking him if there was mission at the moment.

“Do we have a hunt?”

I could tell the answer was going to be negative just by glancing at a fake reassuring smile.  
“Supernatural activity has been unusually calm lately. But I’m sure there’ll be something during the day.”

I will stay alone with my thoughts for a while then. No! My body felt weak, yes. But not my mind. I will resist whatever tricks was played upon me. Next time I see the trickster, I won’t hesitate as I did the other times.

Monsters won’t stay asleep forever, Mick. In the meantime, I shall go back to my room and put myself back into shape for the day.

I will wear the hunter gear today. The costume will be for another day when the situation will be settled. I shall start with the simple task of shaving. I’m a British hunter, I won’t look like them, the American hunters.

Shite! Of course, I had to cut myself. And it had to be with a razor blade, not by some claws, teeth, or even other weapons. I could feel the lack of hunting. A lack of hunting which could be understood as I was also executing orders: since they were less and less satisfied with Mick, I had to take some of the coordination work.

Anyway, it’s not a small cut such as this one that is going to hurt me.

What was…? There were some light blue streams going up my throat to the small cut.

I felt the ground shift beneath my feet. And all I heard was a thud sound.

I woke up with my body facing the ground.

Where was I? This was not my room. And this was certainly not the compound. It was a dark place. The floor was hard and cold. There wasn’t a sound except for the murmurs of some men and a scream. A scream which I had already heard. The voice, the distress in it… I already heard it.

I could perceive bribes of a conversation among the murmurs.  
“Technique ANZ-243 is not working.”

“Did you try the sigil yet?”

“No, not yet. Might as well do it. That may be the key.”

“Do what you have to do.”

I heard the voice again, even more distressed than before. It wasn’t screaming anymore. The voice was weak now. Weakness could be heard. This was the voice of someone who was still being tortured. Forever begging and pleading for the torture to stop. But what was the point was the trickster trying to make? Was he still trying to make me feel my victim’s pain? I should remember a scene such as this one. I could even smell blood and something else which I wasn’t able to identify. But this wasn’t a smell, this was something else which was all over the place.

The voice said something. I was only able to hear the end.  
“Please… my powers… my wings… I won’t able to use them anymore… if you put that sigil on me.”

“One more good reason.”

I was still in the dark but it didn’t make the noise less frightening. A door -surely made of some heavy metal from the sound of it- was opened. A body was getting pulled out violently. There was the sound of a bone -maybe several- being broken.

I felt a sudden burning pain around both my wrists as if a rope was getting tightened around them. It was not dark anymore. Only light. So much light I was blinded by it. My body was numb but I could feel projections of liquids… I could still feel my skin boiling.

My throat was sore because of so much screaming.

“Did you prepare the spell? For The Sigil?”

“All is ready, Sir. Is the angel weak enough?”

“Only one way to know, Doctor.”

My eyes became accustomed to the light and I could see the wings, burnt, feathers almost all gone, the ones remaining were burnt too. I could hear the sound of my own heart.

*lub-dub-lub-dub-lub-dub*

Horror was what I was feeling as though I already knew who it was.

*lub-dub-lub-dub-lub-dub

I made a few steps towards the body belonging to the voice.

*lub-dub-lub-dub-lub-dub*

My eyes fell on the angel’s face and I finally saw… understood. This was one of my memories.

(?) *lub-dub-lub-dub-lub-dub*

Bonus Scene:  
I don’t have any strength left. I don’t even have the strength to think properly. I was so tired. And I was feeling an immense pain in my back.

“I don’t even know… I found him in his room. He was on the ground.” Was that Mick’s voice?

“Are you sure of what you’re doing? It could be a trap.” Was I in the bunker?

“Dean… Love, since when is he like this?” Mick and Sam?

“I don’t know… like I told you last time I came to see you, something was wrong with him but I didn’t know why. He just wanted to go after Gabriel.”

“Your pillow talks must be so interesting!”

“Dean! That’s not the moment! Why was he looking for Gabriel?”

“He was convinced Gabriel was the reason for well… Apparently, he thought he Gabriel was playing tricks with him.” 

“It could be, that guy isn’t actually joking when he plays trickster with you. He made Sammy go through me dying a hundred times… And he hurt Baby’s tires.”

“Wait a sec’… was Gabriel at the compound?” He was.

“Not that I know of, Sam.”

“You think I care where the not-so-dead Trickster is?”

“Remember what he said about hidden Grace or something?”

“Dean… what if Ketch is truly an angel tortured by the BMoL and only remembered now?…Mick, What are you doing?” Sam would have been a good Man of Letters, observant as he was, his hypotheses often right.

“I’m just going to try something. Mr Ketch? Arthur? Are you… with us?” Was Mick’s hand on my neck? Was I sitting or lying?

I only had the strength to open my eyes. I was sitting down in a chair. I felt myself going back and forth on it.

I saw Mick. I saw the brothers. I wasn’t at the compound. I was at the bunker.

I opened my mouth to speak but no word came out of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both comments and kudos are appreciated! :D


	11. Key To Memory

“Do you want to tell us something, Arthur?” I wanted to answer Mick, I wanted to but I couldn’t… My throat felt constricted and my breath was short. I wish I could say something, anything.

“He looks like he is in shock.” No shit, Sam, I’ve just remembered that I was tortured and transform into a monster killing his own/his kind. Because that what I was, that was what they made me… My own kind… they made me look for them, torture them, kill them… This was a world I was supposed to protect and cherish as per our Father’s wish. They made me the entire contrary of who I was… they transformed the angel of compassion, mercy and forgiveness into… that. I… The other me didn’t ask questions whether the creatures and other supernatural beings were truly or not... The other me took pleasure in watching people suffering… The other me didn’t have any forgiveness: if someone had committed a mistake, any mistake, even the most trivial one, this mistake should be punished. But I remember… I was…

“Mr Ketch?”

I was openly sobbing. I didn’t know my own name, my true name. I couldn’t remember it…

“Mr Ketch?” Sam… I had to say something, anything. “Mr Ketch, are you...alright?”

“THAT’S NOT MY NAME!” They all had a look a concern on their faces now. All I could do was to keep on crying. They even took my name away.

“What is your name then?” Mick managed to take his free will back. How come? Is it because he was human? Because human beings were our Father’s “perfect creation”? Or is it because he met the right person at the right moment? Was the last question also valid for me? Gabriel… I wanted to kill him… I wanted to kill one of my brothers.

“I don’t remember my name… I don’t remember.”

I briefly saw Mick looking at Sam and Dean before looking back at me.

“I don’t remember… They took my name away from me...”

“Shit… are they others like him, Davies?”

“I… I don’t know… do you think they would tell me? That kind of secrets? The level of it suggests only the Old Men have been aware of it.”

I heard Dean sigh.  
“Sam, Do you think Castiel could do something about it when he’ll be home?”

“Well, I don’t know… he didn’t feel his Grace before… I think of someone else but you’re not going to like it.”

I managed to stop sobbing somehow but tears were still rolling.

Dean must have given a look to Sam because what followed was:  
“Sam, no. We’re not inviting that feathery asshole here. He saved our lives, okay but… He is behind me, isn’t he?

“Hello to you too, Dean-o!”

I saw Mick jumped… not used to angels appearing out of nowhere that one. It actually made laugh a little. But the laugh did not appear on my face and it sounded sad even though it was my head.

“So, why the Winchesters are summoning me? Don’t tell me it’s the Apocalypse again.”

“Why, missing it, Trickster?”

“Not really the moment, guys. Gabriel, Mr Ketch is… well… not Mr Ketch… apparently.” I’ll give him an E for effort, Sam tried at least.

I saw Gabriel appear in front of me. He crouched so to be at eye level with me. He put an end on my face. A kind touch… from a loving brother… it came to me that I’ve missed it.

“A bit lost, eh?” I felt myself nodding.

“So, what you said about the hidden Grace thing...?”

“Oh, hello, English one! Before one of you ask -because I can feel the questions… What I did was to break a solid wall the British Men of Letters put in him. To keep his memory away.”

“He said he didn’t remember his name.”

“That’s highly probable, Moose.”

“Could you… help? Do you know who he is?”

“Of course… but being asleep for a couple of years did not help me. I took too long to recognise the voice inside, and the Grace literally screaming for help” So, the voice, that what it was? My… Grace? “But I remembered! I remembered a brother who was compassionate as ever even when suffering immense pain. I wonder how this dear brother of mine ended up in such a state. The BMoL certainly did a number on him.”

“An Arch… angel?” Even in that situation had to sound curious and hesitant.

“Not really. He’s one of the few angels that had the power of one Archangel. Even Castiel, being powerful as he is wouldn’t be able to reach that level and he is one of the youngest. Though… don’t forget Cassie is a Seraph.” Did Father upgrade him? “This brother of mine flew Heaven some time after the old man fleeing I don’t where. He saved a father from murdering his child once.”

“Isn’t it the story about Abraham and Isaac?” And another blurred memory. What I remembered clearly, however, was my hand stopping another.

“I don’t remember my name.”

“He sounds even more distressed when he says that.”

“I destroyed a big part of wall forced on him but the sigil certainly does not help. That sigil is a key. And there’s still a door to be opened. I waited too long… I should have broken the sigil as soon as I knew for sure.”

“When was it? When did you break that “wall”?”

“I like you, English one. I wished some people -not telling names- asked more questions about how angels work. It should interest you especially, Dean… Oops, I told the name.” I wished the BMoL did not know as much. Also, even if my memories were blurred, I still remember him being one of the most cheeky. Didn’t Father try to ground him once? Or was it Michael? “It was on a night, some weeks ago. I tried to communicate with through the angel radio.” I still remember that. “I didn’t go as well as I thought”

“What the sigil’s doing exactly?”

“Well, Sam, the sigil is the thing that keeps his grace “under control” if you know what I mean.”

“Now...” He took my right hand. I saw his eye glowing bright blue. I felt the skin on my hand burning. But this time, it was a good kind of burning. It didn’t really hurt.

After what appears to be an hour later, the tattoo was fading and when it disappeared, the skin looks scarred at that place. And I felt it… I felt my Grace going back, taking its rightful place within my vessel. I groaned a little, of course, it had not to be without pain.

“You should be fine now, brother.”

“What will happen now?” Mick wondered aloud.

“Difficult to say, love. One thing is sure is that the British Men of Letters won’t be for much longer. I can promise that.”

“That’s also going to be difficult. But you’ll have my help, boys.”

“And as for well… As for him, what should we do? And if his name is not Arthur Ketch, what is it?”

I saw Gabriel giving him a gentle smile. And as gently, he asked me if I remembered my name now that my Grace was coming back. I shook my head.

“You shall be safe to remember now.” I tried again. But all I could think was the memory that first came to me… that scene of torture that had me coming back to myself.

“Alright. Let’s try something else.”

He took my face between both his hands. His forehead against mine. His eyes were bright blue again. And I saw memories, his this time. He was sharing his so I could have some parts of my memory back. I saw myself back in Heaven. I remember flying away from home because I was sad our family was torn apart, I couldn’t bear the sadness in some of my brothers’ eyes. For the first time in years, I felt light, I felt no urge to hunt supernatural beings, I felt as if nothing was missing. I wasn’t Arthur Ketch, hunter for the British Men of Letters, I wasn’t their obedient dog anymore.

Gabriel went to join the other three, standing beside them. I looked at them. I still had tears in my eyes but I remembered my name now. I was…

“I remember now… my name is Zadkiel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both comments and kudos are appreciated! :D


	12. Epilogue

During the weeks that followed, the Winchesters made plans to take the British Men of Letters down. They formed an army of hunters and supernatural beings alike. It was weird at the beginning, they knew me as Mr Ketch and therefore strongly mistrusted me. I understood them. And I forgave them. It was also strange for myself: it was strange not to feel this BMoL hunter’s mindset at first, it had been with me for so long. And I wouldn’t say I’m fine now. Far from it. But, at least, I will obey my own will.

So, taking down the BMoL was a difficult task but we managed it. We wanted to take down the part that has settled in America and we did it. Gabriel actually went further.

“To hell with the consequences, my son is there.” was all he said. Mick has just had the time to make a remark before my brother went on the other side of the Atlantic.

“And what about the children at Kendricks Academy?” And all Gabriel answered was that he would take care of them. We have no news of him yet.

I was living in the bunker at the moment. I was not physically participating in hunts, I was only looking for them.

Speaking of living in the bunker, we have a new inhabitant now: Jack, Lucifer’s Nephilim. Fortunately, the kid has inherited from his mother’s side but was still in need of learning how to control his powers. The kid was curious, he wanted to learn. I could give him that. And Castiel was taking great care of him. Jack mostly came to me so I could tell him stories about Heaven.

I also saw Mary again. Telling her the truth was easier than I previously thought but she was keeping her distance.

Living in the bunker also allowed me to solve a mystery. Even though I heard words back when I was in a state of shock, I still had to be sure about what I heard.

“So, your lover?” and Mick, who has his back turned, jumped.

That’s was one of the funny things with Mick: he was still startled by angels appearing out of nowhere. So, me managing to surprise Mick in the kitchen that day wasn’t actually a surprise.

“I thought you already knew? You know, your room being next to ours and the fact we aren’t exactly discreet?”

“So, the person whom I thought to be your “lady” is Sam?” My! I didn’t know Mick could blush so easily.

“Well, aside from the fact that I’m not a “lady”...”

“Shut up, Samantha, Zadkiel is right, you’re totally a lady with that shiny hair.”

That was also the time I laugh for the first time since I remembered. But there is still a lot to be done: I can’t just forget what happened. My vessel still behaved as though it was fully human. I was still having nightmares when I happen to sleep. I still felt the pain, especially when it came to my wings. Gabriel could only heal the “superficial” wounds. 

I wish to fly again.

**Author's Note:**

> Both comments and kudos are appreciated! :D


End file.
